


back that ass up

by ididnotwakeuplikethis



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Belly Kink, M/M, Weight Gain, stuffing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:34:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididnotwakeuplikethis/pseuds/ididnotwakeuplikethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Man…you got fat,” his sister comments as he walks into her entryway.</p><p>“Thanks,” Tyler deadpans. He wasn’t fat, just…thicker. He had only put on like, twenty-two pounds (not including the steak dinner he had last night) since he hung up his skates.</p><p>“Well, I lost a bet thanks to you,” she says as she picks up her toddler. “Thought you would let yourself go later on into retirement.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	back that ass up

**Author's Note:**

> From the sin bin prompt in which anon requested:
> 
> Post-retirement, it's normal for athletes to gain some weight since they aren't at their "normal" super-high activity level anymore, don't have to stick to a meal plan, and have to make a real effort to scale down their caloric intake since they can't continue eating 5-6000 calories a day and lose weight.
> 
> Tyler, once he of "3% Body-fat," chunks up. Jamie's really into it. Tyler's still muscular and flexible, but there's finally some jiggle to his ass when Jamie spanks it. His face rounds out a bit, there's a little softness to his belly and thighs over the firmness of the muscle when Jamie rubs off there.
> 
> Tyler's surprised how into it Jamie is. His self-esteem isn't bad, he was just getting (for him) chubby, but he had been planning to reign in his calorie intake and increase his workouts again.
> 
> But he's getting laid a lot so maybe he'll wait a bit since his body's really just "normalising."

This was what “retirement” looks like for Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn: a penthouse in Toronto, with arching windows and marble tables. Five bedrooms – one for them, three for guests, and one for the dogs. Three years into his own retirement, Jamie had expected Tyler to be caught up in a storm of promotions and award shows, or whatever the fuck retired athletes that reached beyond their sport do, but to his surprise, Tyler showed no inclination towards his usual busy get-shit-done attitude.

“Gonna just…you know…hang out for a bit,” Tyler says when asked abut his retirement plans by Strombo. “I have some ventures, but I just want to hang out, be a normal guy again, you know?”

After the weeks of bliss and disbelief that their playing days over, Tyler and Jamie go to Europe. The trip doesn’t help any of their waistlines. Tyler still keeps up with his workouts, but the amount of beer and bread they consume adds a few inches to their waistlines. 

“Man, these European lines run small,” Tyler says as he tosses a folded pair of jeans onto the top of his suitcase. 

Jamie looks at his half-naked boyfriend. His abs are still well-defined, but his edges look softer. 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but think that it’s the five beers Tyler had last night, not a difference in measurements.

“Wanna go to out before we have to leave?” Tyler says as he pulls a pair of black sweatpants on. “That one Thai place is open.”

“Why did we come to Europe to eat Thai food?”

“I’m hungry, Jamie,” Tyler pouts. The restaurants are open late in Europe, they might as well take advantage of that.

“Fine, we’ll get you fed,” Jamie laughs as he sits up.

 

\--

 

Tyler comes four times that night, but is kept up with feelings of nausea and gas. Once the pain in his belly subsides, he manages to pass out. When he does wake up, it’s well past eleven and his stomach is still bloated.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jamie says as Tyler stumbles into the living room of the apartment they’re renting.

Tyler grunts his hello and slumps over to pour himself a cup of coffee. Normally he has it black, but he recently discovered how good honey is with milk. 

“You hungry?” Jamie asks as he pokes through the fridge.

Oh god. “Little bit.”

“You want pancakes?”

“I haven’t had pancakes since I was twelve,” Tyler muses as he scratches his stomach. 

Despite his stomach’s warnings, he eats eight of them. They found a tub of Nutella in the cabinet so hey, might as well take advantage of that before it goes bad. He knows the meal’s worth his entire daily intake of calories, but it’s so good. He can feel Jamie's eyes on him, but the food actually is soothing his overtaxed belly, rounding out all the painful gassy crevices

“That was good, babe,” Tyler says as he pushes his plate forward and leans back. 

Jamie looks up at his boyfriend’s smile, but his eyes quickly glance down at his stomach. It was clearly distended, like when he had dared Tyler to drink two six-packs and eat a whole pizza their first offseason together.

Tyler doesn’t notice Jamie’s gaze on him as his eyes were fixed and a little glassy. Too focused on the pain coming from his belly.

A burp punctuated the air.

“Fuck,” he says, clearly surprised by the sound that his body just emitted. “Sorry, babe. That was gross.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, trying to ignore the twitch in his dick.

 

\--

 

They make it back to Toronto, with Jamie’s AAA team starting their season and the NHL season starting up, they can’t sleep until noon anymore. One morning, Tyler finds Jamie making omelets in the kitchen the next morning. The AC is acting up so there’s a sheam of light, glistening sweat cascading down his boyfriend’s back. He kisses Tyler hello, tasting bacon on his lips.

"Wanna try?" Jamie asks, plucking a strip of bacon off the plate on the counter.

"Of course," says Tyler, swatting him with a dishrag. “I’m not patient.” 

“Want to go to Digelo’s tomorrow? I was gonna go downtown and pick up a few new pairs of pants, maybe some shirts. Digelo’s is right near there,” Tyler says between chews.

"What happened to your old pants?" Jamie asks, though he thinks he knows. It’s obvious.

Tyler shrugs. "Uh, getting a little too snug in the waist. Think I’ve gotten a little out of shape since my ACL surgery."

Jamie hands a plate of bacon and hash browns over to him. 

"You don’t look that out of shape,” Jamie says as he sits down with his own food.

“I’ve gained like, ten pounds,” Tyler says matter of factually. Jamie fights the urge to roll his eyes, because it’s definitely more than ten pounds with the way Tyler’s been eating.

“Eating carry out twice a day will do that to ya,” Jamie says. Especially when his boyfriend’s ordering thirty dollars of Thai food every day.

“But cooking is hard, babe…” Tyler whines. He can only grill out and that’s not going to help his waistline.

 

\--

 

“You here, Ty?” Jordie asks as the door creaks open.

“Just took a nap,” Tyler replies, pushing himself up, his stomach letting out a very audible groan of protest. He should have not had that fourth slice of pizza.

“Ah, the life of a retiree,” Jordie says teasingly as he bent to wrap him in a hug, then stepped back to give him an amused, appraising look. “Jamie was right. You are getting comfortable.”

“Oh, I'll put on real clothes before we go out,” Tyler replies, tugging on his t-shirt. There’s a pizza stain on it.

“Not exactly what I meant,” Jordie mumbles. Man, he did put on weight, Jordie muses. He looks at Tyler’s ass as the younger man walks to his closet. He can clearly see the outline of Tyler’s ass—he actually has one now—on the gray sweatpants he was sporting.

From his closet, Tyler grunts as he squeezes on a pair of black jeans, noting with some surprise how much effort it took to close the flaps, and how there was a soft bulge of stomach rolling over the too-tight waistband. Fuck, there was no way he could eat comfortably in this. His calloused fingers around with the pants for a bit until he finds a safety pin to hold the holes together. He pulls one of his longer, loser v-necks down to hid the hole, but as he looks in the mirror, he can definitely see the outline of his belly pushing against the fabric.

It’s fine, he figures, retired NHLers pile on weight all the time. It’s not that bad. His body is just normalizing. 

 

\--

 

“So Tyler looks happy,” Jordie comments as they’re driving to the rink.

“Mhm,” Jamie nods, absentmindedly. He’s starring down at his phone, looking at an email from one of his kid’s parents.

“I meant he’s been, uh,” Jordie pause, trying to carefully pick his words. “Packing it on a bit?”

“Oh,” Jamie stammers. “Yeah, a bit. It’s fine, though. To be expected.”

Jamie doesn’t know why Jordie’s so shocked. It happens to everyone in the league.

“Not with Mr. 3% Body Fat Tyler Seguin, though. You feeding him well?” Jordie jokes.

Jamie tries to ignore the three cans of Nutella he bought and placed in the front of the cabinet the other day. Or how they’ve gone out to eat for five of the last seven days, not including the carry out he knows Tyler orders when Jamie’s out in London coaching. Or how Tyler’s been shifting uncomfortably as his tighter pants dig into his softer sides at dinner.

Jamie shrugs. “It’s whatever, man.”

 

\--

 

“Fuck, I need new pants,” Tyler says as he sits down in their van. The Toronto winter is refreshing after well over a decade of Dallas sun.

“Do you still not know how to do laundry properly?” Jamie jokes.

Tyler’s face registers with a look of recognition. “Maybe,” he mumbles as he puts his seat belt on.

Jamie’s eyebrows raise beneath his sunglasses. His boyfriend can’t be that oblivious to the weight he’s put on. It’s not that much—maybe twenty pounds—but if he is, Jamie’s going to milk it for what it’s worth.

“You look great, babe,” he says as he reaches over to place a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh. He feels his palm lower into a layer of fat that wasn’t there when they were playing. “They probably just shrunk in the laundry.”

If he has to admit it, Jamie’s been quietly eyeing the weight pile on, just a softness around Tyler’s chin, then a slightly thicker layer on his belly where his abs were. His stomach is still toned, but he doesn’t have a six pack anymore. His arms are a little bigger, still muscular but less sculpted, and his ass and thighs are plumper, filling out his pants and making Jamie bite down on his lower lip whenever he stares for too long.

"Yeah," he says, propping himself up on one elbow and determinedly keeping his eyes on Tyler’s face. "I guess you’ve packed it on a little.”

“Kinda?” Tyler repeats, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve gained more than a little.”

“By your standards,” Jamie stutters. 

Tyler bites down on his lip as he grabs a handful of his stomach and rolls it between his fingers, giving it a pinch. Jamie closes his eyes, feeling his dick twitch under the blankets. He still hasn’t figured out exactly why it turns him on to see Tyler softer, but it really fucking does.

 

\--

 

They’re camped out in front of the TV, as per usual, but Jamie’s not focused on the Wings and Canadiens game playing. He watches as Tyler chews on his pizza slice, licking at the grease that dripped down his fingers obscenely. The pile of bones from their bucket of fried chicken grow as Tyler’s hands rubs small circles onto his stomach absentmindedly more and more. He’s wearing a hoodie so his belly isn’t all that visible, but Jamie can tell by his boyfriend’s facial expression that he isn’t feeling the best. 

Jamie’s breath hitches as Tyler shoves the last crust into his mouth and lets out a loud belch.

“You good?” Jamie asks quietly.

His stomach looked at least an inch rounder than when he'd started, and he huffed, wriggling tiredly on the couch, pulling at the pinching waistband of his sweatpants. The elastic was stretched to the max.

“Oof,” Tyler mumbles, drumming his fingers on the dome of his gut in its stretched, stained t-shirt.

“You okay?” Jamie drawls.

“Uh,” Tyler stammers. “Yeah, just a bit of a cramp.”

Does Tyler know that those cramps are from gas, not a lack of oxygen, Jamie muses.

“We should get you some new pants,” Jamie suggests. He hates seeing his boyfriend so uncomfortable.

Tyler bites his lip. “You think so?”

“We could go shopping,” Jamie proposes. “Tomorrow. Um, in a store. There’s a new one at Dundan Square.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, knuckling his belly. “Yeah, that'd be great, man. Thanks.”

 

\--

 

Tyler knows he's put on weight – he'd have to be stupid not to admit that. He feels it in the way his chin encountered some resistance when he looked down, can feel it in the way his ass jiggled when Jamie spanked it, the way his belly was pushing into his belt.

He knew it – but he hadn't seen it in this way.

He can feel it in his tighter clothes, sure, but he hasn't seen it in the mirror until now. Handsome, of course – he still saw his face and shoulders, and his hair was thicker than ever – but definitely, undeniably chunkier.

“Man…you got fat,” his sister comments as he walks into her entryway.

“Thanks,” Tyler deadpans. He wasn’t fat, just…thicker. He had only put on like, twenty-two pounds (not including the steak dinner he had last night).

“Jamie doesn’t mind,” Tyler says as he shrugs his shoulders before bending down to wave at the little boy hiding behind his sister’s legs.

“He into that kind of shit?”

Tyler doesn’t know if he would call it that, because it’s not like Jamie’s been enabling him. He just hasn’t said anything.

“I lost a bet, though,” she says as she picks up her toddler. The little toddler—Jax—reaches chubby arms for his uncle. “Thought you would let yourself go later on.”

“Hey, buddy!” Tyler coos as he picks up the toddler, trying his best to ignore his sister. He can feel his shirt ride up as he throws Jax up in the air.

 

\--

 

“We going out tonight?” Tyler asks Jamie as he throws his keys into the dish on the kitchen counter. They can never find anything.

“Thought we’d stay in,” Jamie mumbles as he wraps his arms around Tyler.

“Yeah?” Tyler asks as he feels Jamie’s calloused hands trace down his stomach.

“Mhm,” Jamie mumbles as he places a trail of kisses down Tyler’s neck. 

Jamie has to remind himself to take it slow, but he can’t help himself as he presses his throbbing cock against Tyler’s ass. He cups Tyler’s balls with one hand, groping Tyler’s belly with the other. He can already feel himself getting hard.

 

\--

 

"Yeah, babe, c’mon—ah…" Tyler moans as Jamie finally sank into him with a few slow thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Jamie breathes. Briefly, Tyler finds his gaze drawn back to the mirror, sees his boyfriend panting, redden face. He’s pretty out of it, gaze focused on where he is sliding in and out of Jamie's ass, beads of sweat standing out on his skin.

It’s the best sex they’ve had since they got together, Jamie thinks.

“I need to cut back,” Tyler says as laying in bed. 

“Hm?” Jamie asks, frowning.

“Calorie intake,” Tyler says as he plays around on his phone, scratching the dried cum on his stomach idly.

“You look great,” Jamie says, but Tyler just rolls his eyes. He knows the words are empty.

“Yeah, right,” Tyler says as he sits up and rolls off the bed to grab a damp towel from the bathroom.

“I’m serious, Ty. You look really fucking hot like this,” Jamie says as he sits up. The sweatpants Tyler are distracting; with the weight Tyler’s gained in his lower half, he can easily see the outline of his cheeks pressing against the fabric.

“Wait,” Tyler says as he pokes his head out of the bathroom. He leans against the doorframe. “So this is what this is about?”

Jamie blinks.

“I figured as much,” Tyler smirks. “I’ve held off increasing my workouts for a reason.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks with a smirk.

“Mhm,” Tyler hums as he pulls Jamie into a kiss.


End file.
